Down through the Andes

LOJA, Ecuador — As much as we wished to stay another day or two in Baños, we knew it was time to hit the road. So early Wednesday morning we packed up our gear and sleepily trudged the three blocks up the hill to catch the 7a.m. bus south to Cuenca.

The highest point of our ascent through the Andes.

The nine-hour ride down the spine of the Andes was incredible, quite possibly some of the most spectacular scenery I’ve ever seen. Leaving Baños, the bus climbs through lush green mountains and over rushing rivers hundreds of feet below the roadway. Further south the terrain becomes ever more arid, at the midway point turning almost desert like. At what I figured to be the highest point of the ascent I could look down across a broad valley at cloud tops floating over the flat table land that stretches to the Pacific Ocean thousands of feet below. As we descended towards Cuenca the land alternated between green scrub, thick pine forest, and heavy jungle clinging to stone cliffs and outcroppings.

As much I was wanted to sleep throughout the long ride, I found that the mesmerizing scenery and the constant thrashing back and forth of the bus as it negotiated hundreds of hairpin turns and razor-sharp switchbacks made it impossible. So instead I contented myself with gazing out the window at the sights flashing by as we hurtled through the mountains. Herds of llamas and alpacas marched along the roadside. Black and white Holstein cows ambled casually across the road while the bus driver laid on the horn. Muddy pigs, roaming untethered, rooted contentedly in the green grass growing along the tarmac. Tiny little ladies in traditional Andean garb — black skirt, white blouse, colorful shawl, black felt fedora hat and long plaited braids — hoed weeds in furrowed vegetable patches etched out of the mountainsides at impossibly steep angles hundreds of feet above the roadway.

Somewhere between Baños and Cuenca.

Everything we had heard and read of Cuenca raved about its gorgeous colonial ambiance and southern Ecuadorian charm, but for some reason we didn’t like it at all. We’d planned to stay several days but decided instead to get up early Thursday morning and head down to Loja, about five hours south through more mountainous terrain.

Loja is a bustling provincial city a few hours from the border with Peru. There’s really little to do here, but we’ve quite enjoyed the last two days. Few tourists come here other than to change buses, but we’ve noticed a number of businesses around town with signs out front in English. I don’t know if flaunting one’s command of English is a status symbol here as is often the case in Mexico, but nonetheless, the pitfalls of English spelling make for some amusing errors when attempted by non-native speakers. Underneath the lighted sign of an expensive, dimly-lit restaurant a placard enticed would-be customers with “Gourmet Cousin.” A brightly painted French-style bakery a few blocks away was named “Paris’s Brest.” And right across the street from our hotel sits a lunch counter called “Jhon’s Burgers.” While Julianna and I both make more than our fair share of gaffes in Spanish, we couldn’t help giggling when passing these places.

Roughly ten years ago, in an attempt to stabilize its wildly volatile economy, the government of Ecuador made the decision to “dollarize” its economy, meaning it dumped its old currency, the sucre, in favor of the more stable U.S. dollar. It’s strange to travel in a foreign country where prices are marked and everything is paid for exclusively with American currency. Apparently, though, the market is flooded with counterfeit money because every time you pay for anything with a bill the vendor holds it up suspiciously to the light, scrutinizing it like a pawnshop jeweler authenticating a diamond being hocked.

In many ways Ecuador looks and feels like Mexico. The food here isn’t as good, and many words and customs are different, but overall it feels quite familiar. But just when you think you’ve become a jaded citizen of the world who has seen it all before, a fleeting scene catches your attention and makes you realize there’s always something interesting or amusing you’ve yet to witness. Last week in Quito, for example, on our way back from dinner we passed a crowd of men on the sidewalk glued to a television set suspended by a rope above a tiny store’s doorway on which a bloody cockfight was being aired. When the favored rooster made a particularly aggressive thrust at his opponent, the crowd on the sidewalk cheered like rabid fans watching a Spurs or Cowboys game back home. Ah, the joy of traveling!

Tomorrow we’re back on the bus at 7am for the long haul to Piura, Peru and then down the desert Pacific coast several days to Lima. Hope to see you all down the line.